


~drabble compilations

by magma_maiden



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, One Piece, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, Timun Mas
Genre: APH Memories Remain, APH Timeless Nations, APH Tomorrow Never Dies, AussieNesia, F/M, Frobin, Gen, Malaycest, Multi, NetherNesia, NorgeNesia, RussNesia, ThaiUkr, TurkUkr, aph 4 kingdoms, aph manor of fate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:23:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 62
Words: 10,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5022814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magma_maiden/pseuds/magma_maiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drabbles and flashfics I posted on facebook and tumblr; many fandoms, many pairings, many characters, many alternate universes. arranged from oldest to newest. see chapter titles for fandoms, characters and pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. { aph - nethernesia, russnesia; human/mafia au; from aph tomorrow never dies forum }

There are three lines in the life of Nesia Notonegoro.  
  
The first is love. It starts as an admiration from afar, quick glances behind a glass of orange juice, brief moments when their eyes do meet. Many awkward questions and conversations later, the line of love blossoms into a field of cherished memories. Then the line ends, the blossoming field turns into ashes of unspoken why’s, rivers of acidic tears and a faint scent of tobacco. Burnt.  
  
The second is duty. It starts as a harsh session of training, how to wield a fire and tame it to do your bidding. Respect grows between gunshots and bullets that pierce through a target’s head. He teaches her about duty, and she vows to never forget it. Yet she eventually does, and her plea falls on deaf ears. The line is gone when a life grows within her.  
  
The third, and last, is loyalty. It starts as a denial - no, she’ll bow to the Crown, not to the Winter. For many seasons she’s able to fake her loyalty, constantly lie and lie to him. Until she let her guards down. Winter finds the line that is gone and freeze the line that burned. He merges them and line of loyalty into a room, solely for her to dwell inside.  
  
Does she want to leave? Her answer for now is one giant question mark. But it burns. Maybe it’ll carve an exit hole for her someday. Then she could crawl out and began a new life far, far away from the Winter’s reach. The love she once had has gone, the Crown she once bowed to has abandoned her.  
  
There were three lines in the life of Nesia Notonegoro.  
  
But now she only have her son.


	2. { aph - nethernesia, russnesia; human/mafia au; from aph tomorrow never dies forum }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a 'what if'

“Me–betraying you? Oh, let’s see. Those people whom you used to refer as ‘bosses’; you hated them. You told me they’re the bad ones in your organization and you wished to see them gone. So I gave their names to the MI6. Now they’re rotting in jail, leaving the mafia in your hands. I could include your name in the list, but I didn’t. And you said I’m betraying you. Why do you think I didn’t give your name to the police, Ivan? Even though I spent months working for you and had more than enough evidence to keep you in jail for decades?”


	3. { aph/silmarillion - nethernesia; tienv/futuristic au }

When the Mighty Singer sang The Word, the seal that kept his memory locked was destroyed. The answer he’d been seeking for came like flood unleashed; waves of thoughts filled the mysterious gaps and holes in his brain memory.  
  
And for the first time in a hundred years, he’s finally able to whisper her name–


	4. { aph/silmarillion - maglor & aph indonesia; tienv/futuristic au }

“You’re not going anywhere if you keep doing this. Your time for mourning is over; you have a future, a nation to govern. You won’t be able to restore your memory –I can’t do it either.”  
  
“You mean you can’t remember your brothers’ face?”  
  
“…No. What I do remember are two kinds of fire: his fiery red hair and the blazing chasm that swallowed him whole.”


	5. { aph - aussienesia; canon }

And our dreams are scattered like gunpowder, beloved, beloved.


	6. { aph - russnesia; human/mafia au; from aph tomorrow never dies forum }

“You aren’t as cold as I thought.”  
She could tell that he was happy hearing her saying that. His smile widened, then he held her hand while they were walking through a snowy morning. No one felt cold later that day, despite the blizzard that covered the city in white.

“You aren’t as warm as I thought.”  
He couldn’t tell if his words made any difference; her expression was absent from any emotions. She simply glanced back, commanding his enemies to arrest him and bound him in chains made of steel. The city was unusually sunny, yet he felt the warmth never reached his cell.

And at the other side of the city, a woman wept in silence.


	7. { aph - aussienesia; canon }

She is the fire made flesh.  
And he is the red scorched Earth; the cradle of dragons.


	8. { aph - russnesia }

_She is the fire made flesh…_  
yet deep down there is an insatiable craving for the cold, the everlasting winter, and the freezing wind that would send her to a deep sleep…

Maybe that is why he piqued her curiosity so much.


	9. { aph - russnesia; human/mafia au; from aph tomorrow never dies forum }

For her, the Coldness is fascinating. He is tempting her in such a way that she finds herself coming back, coming back to him. Yet they both know they will obliterate each other this way.

But she doesn’t care. And maybe neither does he.


	10. { aph - russnesia; human/mafia au; from aph tomorrow never dies forum }

Maybe the cold wasn’t so bad. Maybe she could handle it now. Maybe it’s because she knew that there’s warmth hidden underneath.  
  
Or maybe she was just imagining it.  
  
Perhaps this is just a ladder. Yes, it’s a ladder. Climbing it would make him never question her loyalty. He’d believe that she’s his most trusted spy.  
  
But she was never able to guess what he was thinking. This game is too dangerous to be played, but danger had been present for so long in her days - she no longer saw it as a threat.  
  
She embraced him and listened to the warmth beating under that many layers of coldness. For the first time since their fated meeting, she gazed into his eyes and showed him no fear.  
  
It’s not wrong. It’s a ladder. She’s a soldier without a heart and duty always comes first before personal feelings.  
  
 _Lips upon lips._  
  
Her duty is to protect the crown, yet she bows to no crown. For now, she would bow to eternal winter. Just briefly, then she would make her escape and return to the light.  
  
 _Snow upon soil._  
  
But maybe, she would never wish to leave.


	11. { aph - thaiukr; human/mafia au; from aph tomorrow never dies forum }

She has been wondering what is the red shadow that adorns her dreams and wallpaper-covered house. She sees it hopping from her pillow, to the sink–where it leaves all her bowls overflowing with a red substance; darker than borscht, stronger than wine. She once holds a roll of clean gauze. It touches it, it whispers dreadful stories and when it leaves, the gauze is overflowing with red. She can’t get rid of the smell. Intoxicating, yet addicting. Just like the shadow itself.

“Where are you?” she asked the little birds over and over, but nobody knows the red shadow. Birds are birds; they chirp about simple things: who murders who, who sells illegal drugs, who smuggle firearms. But he is not among those things.

He once was a faceless man of too many names. Too much for a simple man who spent his days teaching young brilliant minds and his nights to orchestrate a growing catastrophe in London’s underground. Perhaps his job is already done and he simply moved on; looking for another world to destroy.

No goodbye’s. No farewell, no message.

So she finds herself chasing the red shadow in her dreams, in a place that is the ruins of London.

“London is burning,” someone told her once. And she understands.


	12. { aph - russnesia; human/mafia au; from aph tomorrow never dies forum }

~Be my sunflower.  
Be mine.

(she says the sun shall rise from the west before it happens as she pulls the trigger)

–I will never be yours in this world.  
But maybe I would in another one.

(he hears her and whispers)

~In death.

(she mutters her apology and closes his eyes)

–In death.


	13. { aph - aussienesia; human/mafia au; from aph tomorrow never dies forum }

perhaps, unlike her two previous lovers, it is because she can always find him at the same place, with the same smile and laughter. he hides nothing; he has no hideous past or hands caked with murder.

and falling for Kyle is easy.  
she just have to follow gravity.

down the rabbit hole.

to the sun-scorched earth.


	14. { aph - indonesia; musings }

> “Who am I?”

> Nesia closed the lid of a banana chips jar she was holding, with one of its contents hanging between her lips. Dark brown eyes blinked and stared at her ceiling fan as the woman pondered. “isn’t it obvious?” she asked back, her smile widened to reveal her teeth. “I am Indonesia.”

> “But…” Nesia put down the jar on the table and sat, one leg automatically perched atop her seat. The other dangled in the air, her chin rested on her raised knee. “Now that you asked it… hm…”

> For a moment there was no sound but the chips crushed between her teeth. Nesia finished her third chip before she spoke again, “My mind and my heart are my people. My actions are my government. My body is the islands. These,” her left hand held several strands of her hair held by a rubber band, “are my jungles. The mountains my bones, the seas my blood, the muscles are my fertile soil.

> "Most of my childhood memories went undocumented, save for the artifacts and lore preserved in the museums. Some are pleasant, some aren’t. Perhaps… perhaps I have forgotten their names, despite my attempt to prevent that. Perhaps I do not know anymore what tongue they spoke, what kind of lives they experienced. It’s… it’s stressing to know that  you can’t remember your past…” Nesia took a glass of water and drank, her face somber.

> In that moment, her animal companion decided to crawl in and laid his large body under her dangling foot. “Though I’m old enough to know that it’s natural. Death is natural. All things have an end. I just need to look harder to find what can jolt my memories to my predecessors’ pasts. An end doesn’t equal to being forgotten.” Nesia leaned forward to give her komodo a gentle scratch on his head.

> “So, to conclude it,” she straightened her back, a smile has returned to her face. “I am the blood and bones of earth, of Nusantara, successor of my countless ancestors, of a thousand kingdoms and culture… yet I am one. The pasts – mine and my predecessors – are unchanged, but the present and the future are mine. Mine to be shaped, mine to be written.

> "A thousand names I bear, but I choose to be known as Indonesia among the nations. From 1928 until the world’s end.”

> Indonesia took another banana chip, tilting her head and beaming. “That answers your question?”


	15. { aph - turkukr; human/mafia au; from aph tomorrow never dies forum }

> “They still need me.”  
>   
> There was a final tone in her voice, demanding him to drop the topic and moved on as the sunlight ushered the night away. Why does it have to come so soon? Kateryna’s dreams were lingering still on her pillows, her blanket, her sweat-stained bedsheets and him.  
>   
> She wondered if Sadik also dreamed the same dream.  
>   
> They both rose at the same time, picking up their cluttered disguises and scattered lies, attaching them on their skins. No sound but the rustling of the fabrics were heard, but Kateryna swore the birds outside chirped louder than usual.  
>   
> “They only need a second to catch a breath, a moment of peace and a spoonful of borscht. Which you provided freely under this roof.”  
>   
> “You are one of those birds too.”  
>   
> He smoothed his shirt, looking at the blonde’s reflection on the mirror. “I am no bird. I came here on my own, without any broken wings or empty stomach.”  
>   
> “You are a special kind of bird,” she replied, a faint smile danced on her reflection’s lips. “The birds do not know me, and neither I know them, but you do. You come here seeking another kind of solace, one that doesn’t involve bandages.”  
>   
> “Am I special to you? We both know the truth, Katya.”  
>   
> The Ukrainian only smiled at him. “It’s worth it.”  
>   
> “So why did you refuse? I have more than enough to bring us away to anywhere you want in the world. You said you’d love to spend some time in Hawai'i.”  
>   
> “My place is here. They still need me.”  
>   
> But was she truly belong here? Did she really want to spend the rest of her life taking care of unknown thieves and murderers? Would she sacrifice Sadik’s feelings, despite they had danced so often, playing with danger and teasing death together?  
>   
> Did she truly has feelings for him, or he was a mere dance partner for her? A partner she could discard any time?  
>   
> “See you later, Kateryna.”  
>   
> Until the door closed behind her, she found herself unable to answer it.  
>   
> Too afraid to spoke the truth.


	16. { aph - indonesia; canon; speechfic for earth day and kartini day }

> _Perhaps you wouldn’t believe me. But it’s true. Embodiments exist. Ideas incarnated into flesh and blood, sustained by millions of humans. Ah, but it’d take long to explain how we came into being. Long story short, I was born long ago, when our country was hundreds of kingdoms co-existing. I borrowed names from my kinsmen until I obtained mine in 1928. The name I use until today._
> 
> _I am Indonesia. I know, I know this is surprising. And I also know that some of you wonder why I look quite ordinary. If any of you saw me on the streets you wouldn’t think I am different from the average Indonesian citizens. The same dark hair, the same brown skin, the same short stature and nose shape… none of you would mistake me for a movie star, right?_
> 
> (Nesia chuckled)
> 
> _I have been wanting to say ~~something~~  a lot of things to you, people of Indonesia, as a personification of your country. Our existence is kept as secret, so this might be my only chance._
> 
> _I love you. I’ve been loving you since you weren’t born, before your parents were born. I love you when your ancestors lived under my kinsmen’s names. I’ve been watching you grow from bleeding heroes to happy citizens. I spend all my days working for you. To improve your lives. My breaks are brief, my weekend spent to do more work and establishing ties with international community. Although this body can’t get old, I am restricted within a boundary that restricts you as well. Which is time._
> 
> _My days are twenty four hours each, my years are twelve months each. No more, no less. I can’t run this country alone, and neither does my boss– your president. I wish I could fix all the problems by myself, but I do have my own limits. I can’t be in two places at once. I need help._
> 
> _I need your help._
> 
> _I know you have your own lives to worry about. Your own family, your own job, your own house. I am not asking you to do big things, no. Just small deeds you can do every day. Throwing the trash into its place, recycling it, plant a tree, saying hello to people you meet daily. Do good to humans and nature around you. ~~My~~  our ancestors trusted our lands to us, so we can take care of it. So  ~~our children~~  your children, will be able to live alongside the nature, in a healthy environment. We have knowledge, adat istiadat left by our ancestors and modern science to guide us in preserving Indonesian biosphere._
> 
> _Our home. And its plants and animals. We have lost so many of them through excessive hunting, deforestation and loss of habitat. Yet there are unnumbered discoveries waiting out there. Waiting for us to see them, to understand them. To know what role they have in improving our lives. But in order to do so, we need to obtain higher knowledge._
> 
> _Education is a necessity. Education is a right. I realize that our education system is not the best and has a wide gap in different regions. I ask you, I beg you women and men, to not neglect early education for your children and other children around you. Share a little wisdom, tell a motivating story, ask about their activities. You don’t have to be a teacher or volunteer as one– although that’d be nice –but you can be a teacher for people around you. Make them interested in learning, not getting perfect grades. The children are my future. Our future._
> 
> _~~If we sow good seeds now, we will get a bountiful, great quality harvest in the future~~ _
> 
> (Her hand trembled)
> 
> ~~_We can’t trust all the problem into mine or my boss’ hands. I need both of you, women and men, to work together. Especially women; for I am one of you_ ~~
> 
> (Nesia stared at her paper, her pen hanging just a centimeter above her crossed sentence)
> 
> _And I am imperfect, none of us is perfect. Rather than striving to achieve superficial perfection, we should aim to be a better person; a better country for me. Improve our skills, cooperating to solve a problem…_
> 
> (She didn’t know how to continue. Her words kept circling around similar areas and in her mind they were floating upside down, swimming aimlessly following the wind that changed its direction without prior notice. What did she want to say? What did she want her people to know? Words are words, and Nesia was sure some people already know this. Though she wondered why they didn’t act. Maybe they were waiting for a right moment. Maybe they thought she wasn’t worth fighting for.
> 
> But there were people who acted, and upon their hands she placed her hopes and dreams. Perhaps she did not have to speak directly like what she had written. Her thoughts and feelings had reached them through ways unknown to her. Nesia should trust them to bring her dreams into tangible reality and spread it so everyone else will help them.
> 
> Indonesia rose from her chair and crumpled the paper into a ball in her fist.)


	17. { aph - indonesia; nation/haunted house au; from aph manor of fate forum }

> There is no fire purer than the one ignited by rage, straight from the melting core of this planet. Fire erases, fire cleanses. Turning all shapes, forms and colors into charred ruins. Burns away nightmares, pulling the poor dreamers forcefully back into bland reality.
> 
> Yet fire changed reality into a true hell as soon as it started dancing.
> 
> She stood far from the fire, watching the dance unfurls. The sky was clear, stars were seen. She prayed for a rainless night earlier. Usually she would welcome rain; she loved it. But just tonight, she wanted a dry windy night so the fire could dance freely.
> 
> So by tomorrow the nightmares would be no more, and the trapped dreamers could find their way out. The Manor’s illusions couldn’t put away true fire started by the blood and bones of Earth, fueled by many nations’ hatred .
> 
> Indonesia knew her method was too violent, but after spending eons suffering as their toy, this is a satisfying payback. The Inhabitants had tortured many of her kin; the people who currently stood behind her. Destroying the Manor would prevent anyone to be trapped again like them.
> 
> “Let’s go home,” someone finally said after the Manor collapsed into dust. No one replied, they merely turned their back and walked away. Nesia, still in her panda costume she wore when arrived at the building long ago, was the last to go.
> 
> The nations might have destroyed their eternal hell, but the memories remained. They can’t burn it. They can’t forget it.


	18. { aph - benelux; tienv/futuristic au }

> There were two people, a young man and woman, walking side by side at the beach. Their appearance were alike, so was their voice. The woman would say something to the man, and they both smiled. Sometimes they paused to take photos or simply to admire the rusty windmill standing atop the ruins at the sea.
> 
> “Do you think… he would notice? After we… after we go?” The woman looked at the rows of old buildings far behind them, her golden tresses tangled in her fingers. “We have seen our own friends gone in the past…”
> 
> “Do you want to go back, sis?” her brother asked, concern appeared on his only visible eye.
> 
> “Maybe we should,” her eyebrows furrowed, her previous cheerful smile disappeared. “I can feel it, and it’s cold.”
> 
> “Come on.” He took his sister’s hand and together they ran. “I can feel it too, and I’m afraid… we didn’t say anything to broer before we left.”
> 
> Although the siblings were tall, their legs couldn’t carry them to their destination. Their footsteps on the sand vanished, their bodies fading. The woman screamed, her brother hugged her close. Their voices were stolen, their throats choked by mortality–
> 
> And then they were gone.
> 
> (Not far from the beach, a man named Lars wondered since when he hung empty photo frames on his walls.)


	19. { aph - netherlands & romania; vampire au }

> His name is Mihai Lupescu, and he is a self-proclaimed vampire. He rarely goes out when it’s sunny outside, always ask the cafeteria staff if their food has garlic in it, even avoiding mirrors because other people will only see clothes that move on its own. His trademark is a pair of canine teeth larger than most people’s teeth, something the Romanian student is very proud of.
> 
> Lars doesn’t know him well nor ever speak with him, only knows his reputation throughout the campus. Lupescu is a member of the drama club, and his eccentricity fueled its popularity. As a skeptic person, Lars assumed it’s just acting and it’s a coincidence genetics blessed the Romanian with slightly bigger canine teeth.
> 
> But today he wonders if it’s purely an act or there is a truth hidden behind it.
> 
> Lupescu sits before him, his arrival immediately vibrates the air around their table. Lars feels suspicious, the other student usually eat somewhere under the shades with his fellow club members. They both are definitely not close enough for an impromptu lunch together.
> 
> The Dutch notices that there are garlic pieces on Lupescu’s plate. Pieces mixed with the other food and ended in his mouth. “Lars Van Rijn, right?” he asked, the corners of his lips lifted in a smile. Then, without waiting for an answer he launches another question, “how’s Althauf? Still healthy?”
> 
> Lars’ appetite is gone, eradicated by the vampire’s rising temperature.


	20. { timun mas retold }

> The moon shines bright tonight.
> 
> You pray to the gods above, thanking them for the light illuminating your path, your only path to salvation and the strong muscles of your legs that you keep pushing and forcing–take another step, take another step, leap, leap, leap–to go further and further into the dark jungle who welcomes you into its arms. Your heart beating like there is no tomorrow (and you realize it’s almost true) louder than war drums beaten by the soldiers in your mother’s stories to announce their mighty presence. Your jaw is stiff, your throat dry, your breath sucked away by the world around you.
> 
> But the loudest sound doesn’t come from your body. The war drums in your ribcage is silenced by every step he takes. Shaking the old roots, spooking the sleeping birds, making the king of the jungle whimpers like a scared kitten. His roar echoes, reaching the mountains in far south, and you know no humans brave enough to peek from their blankets tonight, let alone going out to help you.
> 
> You are alone, and he is out to catch you. Your only hope is a bag filled with seemingly useless trinkets. You start to wonder why Mother gave it to you and told you to run. Maybe she doesn’t want to see whatever left of your body come sunrise, if any.
> 
> Does Butho Ijo chew his food, or he swallow them whole? Mother is an old, frail woman. Bones wrapped in skin. Wouldn’t taste so good for the green giant. You know that this is partially her fault for making a wish to Butho Ijo. You didn’t ask to be born just to be eaten.
> 
> It is stupid to rely your life on this small bag, but what choice do you have? Your sides are burning in pain and your lungs grasping for air. Your surroundings are leaving its mark on your exposed skin; scratches and scrapes here and there. You stop running.
> 
> He roars your name, taunting you to get out. A loud noise followed by the cries of the jungle dwellers and a teak tree flown above your head, its mangled roots spreading dirt everywhere. One, two, three, four trees followed suit.
> 
> You know he will find you sooner or later. You can’t hide anymore, so you run again. You finally leave the jungle, see the field stretched before you, when a dark huge arm block your path.
> 
> “CATCH YOU.”
> 
> Apparently, he does chew his food.


	21. { aph - austria & kugelmugel; vampire au }

> His name is Johann, and he can see monsters. No, not the kind that hides under your bed or in the closet. They are out there, mingling and interacting with humans. They disguise themselves as construction workers, servants, office workers, lawyers… but especially office workers.
> 
> Johann always stare at them, even blatantly saying that they are monsters, but nobody believe him. He’s just a kid with a rich imagination. The only thing he can do is to draw them and show it to his ever-changing nannies. They will praise him, then suggest to draw anything happier. Johann will nod, but he keep drawing the monsters. One day someone will believe him.
> 
> The only adult who listens to him is the father. Too bad he is incredibly busy, even if he’s at home he prefers to lock himself up in his studio. Johann likes to listen to him playing music, the sound is beautiful. He is frequently invited to play around Europe.
> 
> But during the trip, Johann sees his father changing. He only wants to perform at night. His music becomes hypnotizing, seducing the listeners. He also looks sickly and pale. Johann dislikes it. Johann wants his father to return to what he once was.
> 
> Then one day the child finds his newest nanny passed out with her arm bandaged. And his father sits on the dining table, sipping a liquid redder and darker than red wine. On the next day, said nanny resigned.
> 
> “Don’t tell anyone about last night. It’s a secret, okay?” he whispers, patting Johann’s silvery blond head. Johann nods, and sees his father’s face no longer the face of young talented pianist who once mesmerized the whole Vienna.
> 
> His father’s name is Roderich Edelstein, and he has changed into a monster.


	22. { one piece - frobin; future au }

> There is a machine, people say. A machine that is also a human. With steel as his bones, wires as his muscles, he climbs the rocky walls of Red Line. People gathered to see, to watch and cheer, but to him, they are nothing but a distant buzzing.
> 
> Weeks later, he finds himself atop the Red Line. And he walks towards the only city up there, Mariejois. He heeds nobody, he deflects every bullets aimed to his body. But he harms no one.
> 
> “The World Nobles should know,” he finally speaks in front of the heavenly gates. “That Rio Poneglyph has been found.”
> 
> “And I intend to broadcast it to the entire world.”


	23. { aph - scotnesia & nethernesia; fantasy au; from aph timeless nations forum }

> A heir. The Kingdom needs a heir. The problem is, Queen Nesia never, never sleeps with the King. She may be a witch and he may be a half fae, but conceiving a baby from the empty air is impossible. Already she can feel the eyes of other noblewomen on her back, ready to accuse her as barren. Infertile.
> 
> Searching for another lover with hair as red as King Hamish’s is hard. Very hard. It is a rare trait, and the whole human kingdom of Astrador only has one red haired man. Of course she can always make a royal visit to the elvenfolk, but an elf will take too much attention if he roam these halls. And that leaves only one person– one entity, to turn for help.
> 
> So she paints on a mirror in her royal chamber with her power, breathes onto its surface and mutters his name thrice. Abel, Abel, Abel. And there he comes, hair as bright as gold and eyes as green as emerald. His usual smirk, the smirk hated by the queen, adorned his feature. The Demon of Greed satisfies himself by looking at her chamber as much as he can from his limited perspective. Abel loves the silks, pearls and gems scattered around it.
> 
> “So, tell me, Your Highness, have you acquired an exquisite piece you want to show me?”
> 
> Nesia looks directly at his eyes, forgetting about all the small talk she usually does: “I need a baby.”
> 
> That wipes off the demon’s smirk.


	24. { original work }

> as red as a dying star  
> the blood that caked on our hands  
> and perhaps we are dying too  
> to uncover what has been buried for decades
> 
> but no one is willing to open the box  
> yet the remains, the proof, the ruins, are lying around us  
> watching, waiting,
> 
> mocking us


	25. { aph - indonesia; nation/mutant au; from aph memories remain forum }

> It hurts.
> 
> She might be fire made flesh but it hurts still. All the screams, cries and noise of people running to safety disappeared in a second, eaten by a blinding white light that erases every thing in its path.
> 
> The waters of Houhai Lake welcomed her in a thousand bits of charred skin and bones–ironically resembling her geographical home. Yet instead of lush green, she painted the lake in red and black.
> 
> She didn’t mind, somehow. In death Nesia felt peace and bliss, finally able to rest from the hectic life she had going through since escaping her own home and her own people. And in death she could arrange a proper plan.
> 
> So when Nesia emerged alive from what was Houhai Lake once, clad in smoke and flame, she swore to never rest until her revenge is done. Anyone who laid a finger on her shouldn’t escape unscathed.
> 
> She will find them. And she will burn them.


	26. { original work }

> I’m just elected to be a president, and among the reporters and ministers, someone approached saying “your husband is here to congratulate you.”
> 
> so there he was, standing taller than the crowd with stars on his robe and steel forged stars sitting on his head. I wondered why he wore a crown, but then people began to cry, even my old predecessor and ministers, then a media announced that this is such a historical moment worth a chapter in schoolkids’ history book.
> 
> I see his mouth forming, “my queen.”
> 
> those blitz lamps surely felt like a supernova, temporarily blinding my sight, but I can tell he stood out among the other leaders because he’s the only one clad in orange instead of black.


	27. { aph - ukraine; canon; musings }

> and moments lost.
> 
> life flickered into its death before her; names and stories forgotten, she clung onto life as hard as she could, begging and begging but it is gone anyway so why she kept trying?
> 
> kateryna gathered the forgotten moments in her boxes and albums, like mementos from family members long past, but they weren’t her family.
> 
> they’re her people, and kateryna wouldn’t let them forgotten.


	28. { aph - indonesia; canon; musing }

> “how did you…  _born_?”
> 
> “I am made by my ancestors’ bones and bathed with the blood of my fallen people. or perhaps I was born when someone thought, for the first time, about the chains of islands scattered on the ocean. time is weird, I remember many things but not my origin. perhaps I’ll find out one day.”


	29. { aph - indonesia; canon; ri70 }

> “why is it red and white?”
> 
> “because no matter what is your skin color, straight or curly hair, despite the languages your mother speaks, in the end we bleed red and our bones remain white. we are the same on the inside.”


	30. { aph - indonesia; canon; ri70 }

> today the bamboos are raised.  
> unsharpened, painted  
> their bearers basked in the dawn, barefoot and not,  
> a thousand smiles greeting the new day
> 
> today the flag is raised  
> with laughter and cheering, applause and glee  
> unlike the day it is first raised, accompanied by cries and the roars of our warriors
> 
> while our soil drinks their spilled blood


	31. { aph - indonesia; canon; ri70 }

> I am  
> the war drums that thrum before the knights  
> whose eyes see nothing but death and glory
> 
> I am  
> hopes and prayers spun by a pair of lithe hands of a maiden  
> who sings of the past, present and future
> 
> I am  
> the tears of anger and anguish  
> filling our rivers where the trees drink and grow along them
> 
> I am  
> the cold depths full of colorful angels  
> where dead bodies and old voyages mingle
> 
> I am  
> a rumbling volcano  
> whose roar silences the time and steals all the voices
> 
> I am  
> a bearer of a thousand names  
> a speaker of a thousand tongues  
> a dancer, a fighter, a master of a thousand arts 
> 
> I am  
> a blank space  
> yours to be written, yours to be drawn  
> a handful of clay  
> yours to be shaped, yours to be colored
> 
> and I am a child lost in this jungle  
> so guide me where to go, tell me paths I have to take  
> don’t let me disappear in the dark


	32. { aph - indonesia; musing }

> some wants me to rot in hell, burn in hell, throw myself into hell.  
> but oh honey, don’t you know?  
> I have volcanoes in my body, along my spine, keeping me from crumpling on the floor like a hagfish.
> 
> I am the boiling earth.
> 
> I am  _hell_.


	33. { aph - indonesia; canon; random }

> she  
> sits on her rattan chair like it’s  
> a throne of gold,  
> woven with the hairs of earth and  
> a soaring hope of its maker
> 
> she  
> sips her poison like it’s  
> a cup of coffee  
> made by an old woman on the streets  
> grown by an old man with tobacco between his lips
> 
> she  
> sleeps on the grass like it’s  
> the most comfortable bed,  
> while in truth she just  
> missed her bus and  
> decided not to work today
> 
> she  
> only wants to dream of  
> a field full of  
> blossoming money flowers.


	34. { aph - indonesia; canon; haze }

> but the stars are dead, my friends  
> and all I see is the thick veil of death,  
> choking,  
> blinds me with grey and ashes,  
> remnants of my dead trees.
> 
> I think I’ve disappointed my ancestors.
> 
> I am powerless before these greedy humans.
> 
> what a humiliation!


	35. { aph - indonesia; questioning }

> how do you mend what’s been broken since its beginning?  
> a fragmented existence, glued by saltwater,  
> clinging to an oath just to survive.
> 
> how do you build a nation when the foundation is chaos?  
> a resilient being, fueled entirely by passion,  
> holding onto an old grudge just to breathe.
> 
> “I am an unlikely,” she says while cutting off a chunk of beef and threw it to her companion. “you are an unlikely too, buyung.” nesia speaks as if he could hear her, he could understand her; but he’s just a lizard and his existence isn’t as complex as hers.
> 
> nesia turns her head and sets aside her knife. “what do you think?” her lizard is now busy with his food, leaving the woman alone. “am I still an unlikely, or your policies will sustain me for another five years?”
> 
> she is determined to hear the answer, whatever it is.


	36. { aph - indonesia; canon; musings }

> if a rock can be destroyed by the patience of the waves, then words too can disappear as the waves of time wash them over and over.
> 
> holding onto those ancient memories felt like clutching water in her grasps.
> 
> fading, fading, fading; despite her wish to preserve them.  
> dripping- dripping, dripping; every drops run into the ocean and washed ashore in foreign lands.
> 
> “it has been seven decades and there are more than seven millennia of undocumented works…” nesia whispers to a bowl of meatball soup, her flip flops dangling on her toes. “do I have to look to the past, be in the present yet marching towards the future?”


	37. { aph - norgenesia; kingdoms au from aph four kingdoms forum }

> _—…a northerner?_
> 
> king nesia notonegoro’s eyes followed the northern man since he entered her hall and handed over his fur-lined coat to her maid. young, no way older than thirty, with calm demeanor almost as cold as his hometown, perhaps.
> 
> she kept herself under the shadows over the balcony, her fingers tapped the steel railing slowly. an adorned hand was raised, and within a second one of the west kingdom’s adviser stood behind her, his murmur laced with betrayal, “my king.”
> 
> _—I am not your king; you’re a puppeteer; you bow to a boy, and he isn’t– he will never be the queen to **me**_
> 
> the king swallowed her thoughts and whispered, “who is that northerner?” she had no need to point; no one owned platinum blond hair like him in the hall full of nobles.
> 
> “the royal ambassador from the north kingdom, your majesty. he’s newly appointed and I believe he comes here to introduce himself properly.”
> 
> “then I musn’t tarry long here,” the king motioned him to go, gathered her skirt and left the shadows. eyes in many colors greeted hers at once. she smiled and nodded at every important figures until she found the northern man’s. and as if he was summoned, he began to approach the stairs right when the king was descending. once they were close enough, he bowed to her.
> 
> _—oh my god, look at that face,_
> 
> “lukas iversen, royal ambassador of the north.”
> 
> _—you look like my next **mistake**_


	38. { aph - indonesia; canon; musing }

> but simply being rich of culture  
> will not make me capable to  
> truly govern my country
> 
> there is power lying  
> deep within and I need  
> to reach and seize it
> 
> before I am gone and  
> swallowed by the  
> whirlwind of chaos


	39. { aph - india & indonesia; canon }

> “humans have it easier than us.”
> 
> dev stares at her, gently moving his fingers so the rice sticking on his skin drop onto the banana leaf on the table. “why?” his response came automatically, spiced with concern and confusion, because nesia isn’t one who would speak during a meal; a meal he cooked himself nonetheless.
> 
> and why saying such thing with such a grim tone in front of his beloved haq maas?
> 
> regardless, being a good brother he is, dev leans forward waiting for her answer, but her sister only pouts and sighs. “what makes you say it, nesia?”
> 
> “it’s easy for them to change themselves.”
> 
> “…and?”
> 
> “and we’re not that easy to change ourselves. it depends on not just one, but millions of people.”
> 
> the man assesses the situation in a second, then speaks in a firm tone. “eat.”
> 
> “what–”
> 
> “eat before it gets cold.”
> 
> as expected, nesia left not even a grain of rice on her plate. dev manages to keep her from bringing up the topic again, but when she approaches him in the kitchen with two glass of mango juice, he knows he has to give her something. not an answer. but something.
> 
> “humans don’t think that it’s easy to change themselves, nesia.” he decides not going to wait for her. “the changes are similar, just in a bigger scale.”
> 
> nesia gives him his glass. “I know that, it’s just… I wonder if we truly have the power to change ourselves, not depending entirely on humans. like… if I wake up earlier every morning my people will do the same too. If I… stop smoking,” her eyes narrow, “maybe my people will stop as well.”
> 
> he closes his eyes, focusing on the coldness that seeps into his skin. of all the questions she could ask, why that one?
> 
> “I wish I have an answer, little sister.”
> 
> empires rise and fall, centuries come and go, and dev is yet to uncover the mysteries surrounding their existence. all he can offer to her now is comfort and that is what he does next.
> 
> as nesia releases his hug and bids him goodbye, dev feels maybe it’s better to never discover them.
> 
> besides, some things are meant to be hidden forever.


	40. { aph - indonesia; canon; a part of my ongoing fic, tienv }

> tell me about the shores and seas  
>  when they once warm and welcoming,  
>  tell me about the trees; coconut, teak, banyan and pines  
>  when they once tall and swaying,  
>  under the winds, under the winds
> 
> tell me about the plains and valleys  
>  when they once wide and calming,  
>  tell me about peaks of the mountains; burning in silence  
>  when they once real and rising  
>  bathed by the sunlight, under the winds
> 
> tell me about the adventures and old tales  
>  as they used to be sung and danced,  
>  tell me about the kings and queens; princes and princesses  
>  as the palaces used to be roamed,  
>  in the pages of history, under the winds
> 
> tell me about the heroes, the warriors  
>  as their roar once echoing,  
>  tell me about the great cities; with merchants and ships  
>  as their glory once captured in paintings,  
>  in the days of old , under the winds
> 
> tell me about the bright towers, bridges of steel  
>  and the roads with their steel horses running,  
>  tell me about the humans; smiling, crying, _surviving_  
>  growing hopes, fighting various battles  
>  in a thousand tongues they sing, under the winds
> 
> tell me about the land that once was,  
>  a thousand emerald islands scattered,  
>  the water that once was,  
>  salty blue and pristine,  
>  when I once was  
>  a mighty nation.
> 
> just so I will always remember my name.  
>  just so the world will never forget.
> 
> that I once was alive  
>  under the winds of monsoon.


	41. { aph - malaycest; aph male!malaysia/female!indonesia. kingdom au }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> setting is loosely based on a song of ice and fire. from an rp.

 

> Before the Emperor struck her with his hand, Queen Nesia told her parents that her brother-husband had fled the palace at their wedding night. He acted drunk at their feast before the guests so he could leave while everyone else were busy drowning themselves with arak.
> 
> “I took a bath, then I found our bedroom empty without him or any of his belongings,” the bride spoke in the morning, defiant and unyielding. A faint smile danced at the corner of her lips, boldly exclaiming  _I told you so_ , and that summoned the slap.
> 
> _I told you so, that we quarreled too much, too often. I told you so, that he doesn’t want the throne. I told you so, that we should stop this sinful tradition. I told you so, that we can’t get along well despite we’re twins–_
> 
> She accepted the blame with dignity and pride, continuing her day as if nothing had changed although today’s activities were slightly halted because of a morning storm. Her parents couldn’t undo her crowning anyway. As soon as they abdicated, she would rise to be the first empress of the kingdom, one who ascended the throne alone since its founding.
> 
> Of course, if you asked one or two people who were awake that night – perhaps a half asleep maid and a half sober guard, they would tell a different story. They said the night wasn’t as silent as people thought. They said the newly crowned king still in their chamber until past midnight. They said they heard many things.
> 
> But still, who would you believe? Two servants who were barely able to recall the past night, or the queen whose anger could summon a storm?
> 
> “Now I wonder where you are…” Nesia whispered to herself, leaning on her balcony and watching a storm –  _her_  storm – wreaking havoc in the royal garden.
> 
> “I wonder if I’ll see you again before one of us die.”


	42. { aph - indonesia & indonesia; mutant au }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nesia /human volcano &   
> amos/cendrawasih transformation - amos is melanesian

> whenever she’s asked about her male counterpart, nesia would jokingly said that they are complete each other.
> 
> “I have the fire,” she explained, “amos has the wings. together we are a dragon!”
> 
> then amos would ran a hand through his curly hair and calmly said across the room, “nesia, I am a bird.”
> 
> “but it’s still an awesome image!”
> 
> “… _terserah, deh_.”


	43. { aph - indonesia; canon }

> of all the tales untold  
> of all the dreams scattered  
> of all the songs forgotten,  
> there is nothing that tells us about one entity who lives,  
> who flourishes, who blooms,  
> while the others knelt, died, end;  
> and she simply clings to thin threads dyed by grasses,  
> flowers, fruits; tigers and clams;  
> she simply weaves and weaves and  
> she never stops  
> not even when molten rock and saltwater consume her **a l i v e**


	44. { aph - indonesia; musing }

> there are times she feels she's unreal, there  
> are times she feels like she's not fully present, yet  
> there are times she feels she's omnipresent, but  
> there are times she feels like everything is mere a dream, or  
> she feels like a ghost long lingered in between, but
> 
> the harm she caused,  
> the footsteps she left,  
> the history she wrote,  
> are too real for an imagination, so  
> she can't undo, can't erase, can't hide; and
> 
> the blood is **dry**.


	45. { aph - indonesia; canon }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanted to make this into an image set but what is productivity  
> bolded words are houses motto from ASOIAF

> I couldn't take my independence  
> if it's handed over on a silver platter  
> I had to earn it with my own effort  
> so I established it with **fire and b l o o d**
> 
> some try to silence me  
> and end the life I barely started  
> but I'm survive, alive and breathing  
> and the world shall **hear me r o a r**


	46. { aph - indonesia }

> you cannot sing praises to iron ores and expect them evolve into a sword.  
> you have to heat and hammer it, bend and shape it, breathe a piece of your soul into it.  
> bestow a name to it and  
> let it taste its first blood in a trained grasp
> 
> then you may call it a sword.
> 
> or a nation.


	47. { aph - indonesia }

> you could give up  
> go  
> turn your back  
> run to your awaiting comfort  
> live the rest of your short live unaware about my problems  
> deafen your ears, blind your sight
> 
> isn't it the happiness you pursue so eagerly?
> 
> even if I want, I couldn't  
> I am not made to give up  
> it takes millions other cravens beside you  
> to make me give up and  
> laid down my crown,  
> my life,  
> one that I defended and fought for long ago
> 
> but, ah, does it matter anymore?
> 
> what is unity when you can't shut your hungry stomach?  
> what is patriotism when the greedy is stealing what is yours by right?  
> what are songs and colors when you hate me so?  
> what is loyalty when betrayal is a common thing?  
> what does my name mean to you, when you curse every being who walks on my soil and drinks my water?
> 
> but I couldn't give up  
> even if sometimes I hate myself for being weak  
> I couldn't disappoint millions who still  
> place their high hopes on  
> my small, sunken shoulders
> 
> you could give up  
> but I'll be waiting  
> for you to  
> come home


	48. { silmarillion - celegorm }

> he was once called the fair  
> a prince of the mightiest noldorin house  
> he could have been a prince still, or even a king of his own realm,  
> but he chose the sword and the oath and thus doomed himself,  
> so he fell into insanity, eating him from the inside
> 
> he was once called the fair  
> a great hunter, student of a vala  
> he could kept his brothers away from the same madness, or rouse the people for a nobler cause,  
> but he forgot about mercy, and embraced cruelty  
> his pride soaring higher and higher
> 
> he was once called the fair  
> but here stood another bearing the same title  
> and his sword piercing his twisted, corrupted heart  
> while the other fair being was bleeding himself  
> what are titles and crowns before death?  
> so he laughed, and died as the cruel
> 
> he was once called the fair  
> but he believed it was someone else  
> not him  
> not celegorm the cruel.


	49. { aph - indonesia }

> "they are truly dead if I forget them."  
> "they are alive."
> 
> she knows it is her duty to keep their flames alight and dancing. but it is so easy to get herself distracted; the whole world tempts her to explore every corner and meet every people.
> 
> "and that is why in this room you can't see the color of its walls."
> 
> every inch of said walls are covered with cloths; colorful and intricate. each bears its own story, its own life, its own name. one thousand cloths and none resembles another although they may look similar at a glance.
> 
> "yet," nesia lies on the floor, staring at the ceiling, "now I can't even tell anyone what lives they went through; time must have stolen my memories and I can't take it back, for it is not mine anymore to hoard..."


	50. { aph turkukr; turkey/ukraine; futuristic nationverse au }

> "what would happen next?"
> 
> the wind was strong, but here they stood unyielding. Kateryna tucked her loose strands from her braid, inhaling the fresh scent of the river she did not recognize. its heavy current soothed her mood.
> 
> her only company shrugged. "it will be a long time before they can manage their own life. can't release babies into the wild anyway." seeing that Kateryna's sight still fixed on the river. "euphrates has grown larger after the last ice age, they said."
> 
> he sounded proud somehow. "glad to hear that, Sadik." she leaned at the railing, still concerned. "so is it our duty to take care of them until they are fully grown?"
> 
> "unless you'd rather left the robots to take care of them."
> 
> "of course not."
> 
> "I know you won't." Sadik's personal assistant approached and he threw his cigarette butt into its palm. "I can't trust them either in this matter."
> 
> Kateryna didn't say anything until they were inside, although her worry hadn't subsided at all. She had forgotten their little chat until he spoke, "you know, in a century or two, you're going to be their goddess."
> 
> she blinked. "what?"
> 
> "because you do look like a goddess. so everything is going to be all right."
> 
> she laughed, and her shoulders' burden were lifted.


	51. { aph - indonesia; scars }

> "do you think it's hideous?"
> 
> with a towel wrapping her body from the chest to knees, nesia spun before the mirror. thick lines adorned her upper arm and a burn scar marked her shoulder blade.
> 
> "some say they are," she continued, half-humming, like a woman before a date with her lover; but the scars said otherwise. "some say I should conceal it not just with fabrics."
> 
> nesia picked up a dress with a million colors on it and changed her skin. this time she became a woman with a bowl of hope and dreams, radiating optimism despite her old wounds. "I don't think they are hideous," she sang to her reflection, "they are sculpted onto my skin and told many tales." done buttoning, she began to comb her hair. "they sing of my survival. they immortalize the times I was so sure Izrail would take me away but he didn't. they told the world that I could stand up again after being burned and beaten and slain."
> 
> "I am proud of them," she beamed, fixing her tied hair to make it dance while she walked. "I have no reason to hide my scars."
> 
> "and don't you think they look like the stars scattered all over the universe?"


	52. { aph indonesia }

> her first assignment is surprisingly ordinary. to help her senior maintaining a house owned by an esteemed figure in the government. cleaning, organizing, washing. starts from seven in the morning and ends by five in the afternoon. she doesn't ask who owns the house or why there is a komodo roaming the backyard. she is not supposed to ask questions.
> 
> but by the end of her first week, she finally meets its owner. the brown skinned woman is surprisingly ordinary; young, no older than late twenties, with an ever present smile and hair that gleams under the faintest light. "you may call me Nesia," she says, and they shake hands after the maid introduces herself. Nesia asks her many questions about herself, keeping their chitchat warm and lively, yet rarely she ever says anything important about her life. she doesn't mind, she's not supposed to ask questions.
> 
> but then she finds photo albums, and her curiosity is piqued. the young agent skims the albums, seeing the lady of the house is present in every photo, from the black and white ones to the recent photos depicting current events. and Nesia doesn't look a day older since the day her picture was taken with the founders of the nation. with a trembling hand, she returns the albums. she knows she's not supposed to ask questions.
> 
> but it is Nesia herself who speaks of the trouble in her maid's mind. "so you've seen them," she sounds amused, drinking her es cendol through a straw. "you have that look in your eyes, if you want to know why. your senior, my other maid, had the similar look too." Nesia takes a pause, laughing and fiddling her jasmine brooch. "I don't think you'll believe me if I tell you what am I, so take your own conclusion."
> 
> the women look at each other for a while, and the agent can't make her mind agrees to one conclusion. clothed with anne avantie's kebaya masterpiece and adorned with glittering emeralds, Nesia looks no different than any other women in the party she just left. yet at the same time, she sees a beast in that woman; a beast who has seen much, hears much and eats the worst things the earth offers. a beast who sleeps, who lies upon its family's corpses, who has been breathing before everything the maid knows sprung into existence. a beast who maims, who kills, who is wounded beyond healing.
> 
> the agent who works as a maid shakes her head, muttering an apology.
> 
> she's not supposed to ask questions, because she's afraid she might awaken the beast.


	53. { aph - indonesia + america; nationverse }

> there is a boy with a mirror.  
> two mirrors.  
> where she sees herself on their surfaces:  
> worried and tense and anxious and if she has any option she prefers to be anywhere but being with this boy.
> 
> nesia pushed the pen on the table just ten millimeter away from the edge to keep the silence alive yet behind her the seams of the universe starts to shatter,  
> and he hears and there's a crease between his eyebrows, a silent disapproval,  
> although the lips under the mirrors stretched and curled upwards still
> 
> but the mirrors hide, the mirrors shield, the mirrors prevent her to truly know this boy.
> 
> [ _he is here to help me_ ] says the woman to herself, tugging her bandages.
> 
> "so." he shifts, he runs a hand through his gleaming golden hair. "tell me, what does power taste like?"
> 
> she smiles as best as she can with her recently broken jaw. "power is power."
> 
> he grins, satisfied, and she feels a weight lifted from her shoulders.
> 
> [ _and power corrupts_ ]


	54. { aph - indonesia }

> "And I can't understand it; I tried and I couldn't, for their claim is against the laws of earth, of skies and of seas that have been since long long ago when your ancestors walked with beings of myths and legends; why would they own a piece of land, a tree, a mountain, a lake, when they can just share--but no no no oh no they reek of greed and it stinks and I can't erase its horrible scent--they laughed at me, laughed laughed laughed saying I was a girl too naive to understand that some things aren't meant to be shared but don't we all need water and food from the soil, but they showed me papers papers papers and those papers were stronger than thunders than waves than rocks; and came the drought and diseases afterwards, so people suffer, and they crawled, crawled even though they were mere an inch from death with viruses eating their body inside out and they piled themselves up outside the fence that separated them from the lake-that-wasn't-theirs-anymore then its water changed into the blackest of black, while people who own and buy the lake water became addicted, addicted to it, they kept drinking and drinking and drowned themselves into it--bodies piled up inside and around the lake, I was left to watch the lake as the dead became dusts, and now it's clear blue again but the people with powerful papers came to buy it again, and I couldn't understand it, and I couldn't, why won't they just share?"


	55. { aph - indonesia }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100th drabble!

> it's her space  
> it's her place  
> where she walks in her own pace,  
> a gigantic furnace  
> yet as fragile as lace  
> far flung islands spread like a necklace,  
> but not a palace  
> where many have gone without a trace  
> and her presence isn't a grace,  
> she's a fire made flesh on the surface  
> going against the tides of time in an endless race  
> consuming everything in her scorching embrace.


	56. { aph - indonesia }

> "It never happened before."
> 
> A slash appeared on her palm, unfurling in eight directions like flower petals to show the redness underneath.
> 
> "I mean, it never happened before nineteen forty-five."
> 
> Her left hand was lifted to her chest level, keeping her blood from spilling to the floor. "These sudden wounds..." She went to the sink and washed her hand. "They were mostly unseen, away from mortals' knowing."
> 
> After bandaging her hand, Nesia took her kerupuk container to the dining table. Her TV was on, but it was silent. "At first I knew what happened--natural disasters happening around my land. Then came the mysterious wounds, the ones I didn't dare asking my boss if something had happened because he always said everything is fine, everything is fine, and I shouldn't be worried." Holding her fish kerupuk between her teeth, Nesia leaned down to pet her dragon--undoubtedly attracted by the smell of her blood.
> 
> "Later I understood that this is a feast of beasts," Nesia continued, changing the TV channels rapidly without paying attention before turning it off.
> 
> "And humans are the noblest and the worst beasts in the arena."


	57. { one piece - frobin }

> knowledge is her blood.  
> like ancient rivers coursing through moss-crowned rocks and ruins,   
> going and going to the open sea.
> 
> knowledge is his blood,  
> like cords and cables behind humming steel plates and gears,  
> moving and moving to the open air.
> 
> knowledge is in their blood,  
> recording yesterday and carving tomorrow,  
> securing the old and beyond on the present days.


	58. { aph - denmark & fem!indonesia }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nulis random 2016

> "Cheer up!"
> 
> "Enough, this is the fifth time today..."
> 
> Mathias' smile faltered. "We can always have another game later, Nesia.”
> 
> “You beat me this morning, and that doesn’t count my team yours beaten few days ago,” Nesia sulked, leaning her head on an arm as she browsed the internet.
> 
> “I’ll... treat you for lunch?” Mathias offered, but she only huffed to his attempt. “Tell me, what can I do to cheer you up, please?”
> 
> “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Build me a thousand candi, maybe.”
> 
> “...Temples?”
> 
> “Mm,” Nesia replied flatly.
> 
> “All right, then!” With that, Mathias sprung to his feet and dashed out from the room.
> 
> * * *
> 
>  
> 
> “Move, move-- excuse me, move!”
> 
> Nesia glanced up from her report and instantly pushed her chair back. Two men placed a miniature of Borobudur on her work table, standing about half of her height, and made from white lego pieces.
> 
> “What is this...?” She hadn’t overcame her surprise when more men entered, each bringing smaller candi miniature in red or white lego pieces, placing them in any available surface. Her office was soon filled full with miniatures; from the tables, the windowsill, the shelves, even the floor.
> 
> After the last man placed a little stupa miniature on her hand and left, Mathias’ head appeared on the doorway, grinning. “I did it!”
> 
> “You did... what...” Nesia mouthed her response, examining a red Prambanan miniature on another table. “What is this, Mathias?”
> 
> “Well, you asked for a thousand temples yesterday--”
> 
> She glared at him. “You did what!?”
> 
> “--So I made these. Well, my staffs helped. Didn’t get any sleep but hey, these are finished on time!”
> 
> Nesia opened and closed her mouth but failed to make any sound. “I-- it wasn’t a serious request but--”
> 
> Mathias cut her, “so how about lunch?”
> 
> Looking around her temple-filled office, Nesia took a deep breath and nodded. “Your treat,” she added with a smile.


	59. { aph - turkukr }

> happiness for him isn't something grandiose; merely to see her leaning on his shoulder while he feeds her another slice of turkish delight while he hums, "none of these delights is as sweet as you are, katya."


	60. { aph - indonesia }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> english teaser for sulam semesta (collaborating with crystallizedcherry) which I should've been published before I posted the actual fic orz

> “I must go home,”  
>  “I must go home and fix this,”
> 
> she held the tattered coat like it’s her lifeline–and it is, for the coat was her, manifested in threads and dyes, harvested from the myriad of corners that is her archipelago for centuries.
> 
> _‘you have to guard and take care of it’_ said her first boss, but clearly she was failed and nesia was determined to restore its glory, beauty, unity…
> 
> but the threads are choking each other, and their dying scream stirred storms outside her window–
> 
> .
> 
> –until it sank into crashing waves. far, far below the cliff.
> 
> “it’s not your fault,” the woman clad in brown commented, stepping around her tattered coat. “it’s the coat’s.”
> 
> “should I wash it first in the waves?” but the female figure faded and the ground shattered and–
> 
> .
> 
> –she knelt on a scorching sea of black sand.
> 
> “you won’t go anywhere by kneeling,” said another figure; her skin was reddened by the sun. her shadow blocked nesia’s vision from seeing the smoking mountain behind her.
> 
> “should I throw away all that is old?” she asked, but the sand melts into water–
> 
> .
> 
> –calmly washing gigantic granite scattered around her.
> 
> the third figure stood upon the glittering white sand. “drop the coat.”
> 
> nesia did, and her coat began to absorb colors. the wrong one. before she protested, her predecessor had disappeared. so she grabbed her belongings and ran and ran and–
> 
> .
> 
> –she arrived at the sea of blady grass. the wrong color still dripping from the threads.
> 
> and he, sitting atop of a brown mare, lifted the coat high above his head. he was yards away from nesia, yet his voice rang clear in her ears: “chase me.”
> 
> although choked by tears and thirst, she complied. she had to get the coat back!
> 
> the world rumbled. a herd of wild horses surrounded her, blinding her with red-brown dust, while the rider still yards ahead, taunting and waving her coat like a flag.
> 
> its colors wasn’t red anymore.


	61. one piece - frobin; au

> "I did want to be an archaeologist as a child. And then the murders began."
> 
> The burger stopped mid air, its owner's metallic jaw gaped. Slowly he lowered the food and cleared his throat, "sorry, I didn't quite catch the last one..."
> 
> She pushed back long dark strands on her shoulder. "The murders began, Mr. Cutty--"
> 
> "Franky," he hissed, faint steam escaped his left ear. "How many times I have to tell you not to call me that, Nico--"
> 
> "And how many times, sir, I must tell you not to say my name aloud in public," she responded calmly, glancing over her coffee cup.
> 
> Franky took a large bite of his burger. "I've asked them to take down your posters."
> 
> "How wonderful."
> 
> "You don't sound happy."
> 
> "Oh I am." She threw a brief smile at him, then looked outside the window, at the bustling city. "Freedom does feel nice."


	62. aph - indonesia; various

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> teaser for #RI72 project: bisik

> "you know what--" she suddenly stopped, "you're worse than netherlands."
> 
> "what did you--" nesia wiped the blood from her mouth and spat. a tooth fell near her bare foot. she stood, slightly wobbling, but determined to hold her ground.
> 
> "you heard me," she spat, braided hair fluttered in the wind. "you're worse than netherlands, and japan too--"
> 
> the rest of her sentence was left unsaid as nesia dashed to punch her face. she dodged her attack and kicked her ankle. when nesia rose for the second time, her nose was bleeding profusely.
> 
> "ningrum," she hissed. "the hell are you doing?"
> 
> "you've grown weaker, nesia, and you can't even see it. pathetic isn't it?"
> 
> nesia glared at her. ningrum continued, "you can't even land a punch on me."
> 
> "su--"
> 
> "enough!"
> 
> they both turned towards the masculine voice. a man approached them in haste. he was dark and tall, taller than the sugarcane that surrounded them.
> 
> upon seeing him, nesia grinned. blood had seeped through the thin gaps between her teeth, dyeing her entire mouth red. "you should give her a lesson," she laughed, eyes glinting with mirth and madness knowing ningrum had no chance fighting him.
> 
> her fists were ready. but he only glanced briefly at her before saying, "you should return, ning."
> 
> "what!?"
> 
> ningrum nodded, ignoring nesia's protest. "bye, amos," she mouthed before disappearing into the sugarcane field.
> 
> nesia grabbed amos' shirt. "catch her and make her listen to me!"
> 
> his face showed no emotion. "there's another thing you should know," he paused to push her hands away. "floriana has returned home."
> 
> her eyebrows furrowed. "you're talking nonsense. she's staying in my house."
> 
> "not in jakarta, nesia." amos took three steps back.
> 
> "so where--"
> 
> "dili."
> 
> her mouth opened in a silent roar.


End file.
